Drowning the dim Light in the dazzling Darkness
by xXTriggerXx
Summary: What if the famous hero of the Light was not the one everybody was expecting him to be? What if the arms of his so-called protectors were blood-stained up to the elbows? What if the Chosen One had entirerly different destiny with so much hidden in the past and so many dangers in the future? Additional Story Notes: AU, pre-Hogwarts, another family, Dark!Harry, Bad!Dumbledore
1. Chapter 1

Dusk was steadily falling on a quiet small village in North Wales. The long-awaited moment, all children had been so looking forward to, finally came. At last they would be able to dress up in their Halloween costumes of various supernatural figures and set off to torment the neighbors with exited yells "Trick or treat?". However, the streets were still empty and cheerless and the rain was pouring mercilessly from the heavy sky, frequently pierced by the flashes of bright forked lightnings. In such foul weather even the most light-headed and carefree inhabitants of Godric's Hollow preferred not to stick their nose out of the house. It seamed that the nature itself had a presentiment of impending peril and was trying to do its best to make the townsfolk stay under the protection of their roofs.

Suddenly a quiet pop was heard right in the middle of the central square. Another lightning bolt took out of the darkness a tall lean figure tightly wrapped in a black as night cloak. The infuriated nature was raging around the odd stranger, who wasn't blending with the usual scenery of this peaceful village, but all was in vain. Neither heavy rain drops nor desperate wind gusts weren't able to do any harm to the wizard, surrounded by a shining translucent sphere, like by a soap bubble. For an instant the figure remained motionless, like a creepy stuffed dummy, ominously surveying the surroundings. _Well, it's rather fortunate that there aren't any filthy Muggles in the street_. Thought the stranger with content. _There's going to be nothing that could distract me from the task at hand. _Having readjusted the hood of the cloak, the newcomer headed idly for one of the narrow side streets that were branching off in different directions from the main square of the village. One could easily notice great confidence and unadulterated grace in his every move, as if he was a predator slowly sneaking up to an unsuspecting victim, whose end had been already foregone. The outsider had to walk for quite a long time for it was necessary to reach almost the outskirts of the settlement. The wizard had already started to apprehend the possibility of having been told the wrong information when, at last, he saw a sign with the inscription of number thirteen on it. The next structure, for its part, was adorned with a couple of fretted figures which formed number thirty two, distinguishable if one squinted sufficiently hard into the darkness. The visitor stopped on his tracks.

'Well, well, well, what do we have here? It seems that the Potter's den should be hidden exactly in this place,' he mused and then clearly said, 'Potters live at 31 Guinford Road, Godric's Hollow.'

Immediately, as soon as the last words left the man's lips, another house began to appear before the satisfied eyes of the wizard, swelling and stubbornly pushing aside its neighbors. A small well-kept garden and old massive trees came into existence in a couple of seconds. _Excellent__, I've finally found the refuge of these worthless presumptuous wizards! Ah, it's rather symbolic that the number of their lair matches the day of their death._ Thin lips of the stranger curled into a malicios sneer. _No one can __get in the way __of the Dark Lord and escape unpunished! Today I'm going to nip in the bud the danger that they predict me to be exposed to from this child. _Having opened miniature garden gates densely entwined by already wizened ivy, the figure in the black billowing cloak moved silently to the small cottege in the far end of the garden. The curtains on the first floor windows were up and there was welcoming tender light pouring outdoors. Hesitating for a moment, the intruder decided to look into them, just to make sure that the Potters were alone in the shelter instead of having some guests for a Halloween party. In a small bright living room he saw a young couple which was having a heated discussion, judging by their body language and rather tense facial expressions.

_'Exiperomenti!' _whispered the man, lightly touching the glass with the tip of his wand.

Instantly one could hear perfectly clear everything that was going on in the living room, as if those inside were talking right beside the eavesdropper.

'Listen, right now I can't get in contact with him, Lily,' the man with disheveled jet-black hair repeated with a bit of irritation, 'We've already tried every possible way there is in existence of getting in touch with him! Whirlwind had to return the letter back unopened and there is no answer to the two-way-mirror call either! We've even sent Peter a message with Patronus, but as you can see to no avail! What else do you want me to do?'

'I have no idea, James, but I do have a very bad feeling... I'm sure that something really terrible is going to happen! Admittedly this might sound rather strange to you but I beg you, believe me! I've been on pins and needles since yesterday not being able to calm down!' there was despair and silent prayer in the emerald green eyes of the woman.

'Hush, my love, try to relax! There is absolutely no reason for you to worry! He's probably just busy right now and can't get our messages. Why are you taking it so close to the heart? I don't see any reason for being concerned,' James was soothingly whispering, at the same time trying to anxiously smooth down his unruly hair. That made them get even more inordinate.

'Why on earth have we switched the Secret-Keeper? We should have chosen Sirius from the very beginning, I told you!'

'Lily, don't you remember that Albus made it perfectly clear that it was necessary to direct Voldemort on the wrong track!' the man tried to remind her, gradually loosing patience, 'It's highly unlikely that somebody will be able to guess that we had entrusted our goody-goody Peter with such a crucial and dangerous role! We've head already discussed this like over a thousand times, have we not?'

Abruptly turning away, Lily slowly walked up to the window and stared blankly into the blackness of the night. A strained silence hung in the room. James was awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other not being sure how to approach the witch and make his wife gather her wits. Suddenly the woman turned back, as if having made her mind, and gazed intently at her husband. Taking a deep breath she started in a quite but rather firm voice.

'Honey, are you absolutely certain of Dumbledore's infallibility?'

'You know it perfectly well that no one is infallible, Lily,' the wizard frowned with dissatisfaction not quite catching what his wife was driving at and getting more and more annoyed, 'However, I believe in the headmaster's infallibility far more willingly than in our own. After all, he is more than one hundred and fifty years old and said to be the most powerful light wizard of the century! I suppose he's got to be a lot wiser than we are, don't you think?'

'Yes, I'm certainly aware of this, thank you. It's just that often with wisdom and power arm in arm goes a rather sly and calculating mind,' impatiently snorted the woman pursing her lips in a thin line, 'And now that the conversation has turned into this direction, I don't trust the old man at all, to tell the truth... I've got the impression that Dumbledore is playing his own game, with the rules set and understood by none other than himself! Just think about it, there's no logic in his actions! At the beginning the headmaster proposed himself as the Secret-Keeper, knowing fairly well that we would never dare burden him with another responsibility. And frankly it's not that he insisted a lot after all. Anyway, then he suddenly declared that there was a traitor among our friends, clearly implying that there was a great probability that Renus might consider joining Fenrir Greyback's pack. Don't you see that this is utter rubbish? How in the world this absurd thought could come into his mind, that's insane! Surely you are not going to believe that Remus would be able to side with the abominable monster who had torn into pieces his entire family and infected him with his horrible curse! That's plainly ridiculous!'

Lily was anxiously pacing around the living room wringing her hands with agitation. She had been desperately trying to convey her confusing and disturbing thoughts to her stubborn husband.

'Then, when we expressed our desire to make Sirius the Secret-Keeper, our dear headmaster immidiately protested, insisting that this option was too obvious. Allegedly, the reason was the common knowlege that you are best friends with Padfoot. But seriously, this statement is rather doubtful too! If it comes to that, everybody knows about your being best friends with Moony and Wormtail either! I suppose that there's hardly anybody in the wizarding world who doesn't know about the legendary Four Marauders of Hogwarts! Nonetheless, Dumbledore strongly recommended to choose Peter over the others! For Merlin's sake, the one who had never been notable for his courage and strength of will! To go from bad to worth, a few days after the ritual Wormtail disappeared without leaving a slightest trace!'

Lily fell silent for a moment, as if gathering all the strength to utter the next words. Her eyes were filled with unusual sadness and unhealthy glimmer.

'I think that Peter is a traitor!' she blurted out, as though being afraid to linger for another moment and be uncapable to pronounce the severe accusation.

At this very moment a massive explosion thundered behind Lily's back. The door, being violently blown off its hinges, rushed trough the hall as it was made of cardboard. Smashing with a deafening bump into the opposite wall it shuttered into smithereens. Suddenly there was heard a mournful cry of a child on the second floor. In the meanwhile the man in the dark fluttering cloak finally entered the room.

'You're absolutely right, mudblood,' grinned the wizard removing the hood, 'You should have never trusted your so-called friends with such important information.'

A revolting thing that appeared before the eyes of the couple could be called a human only by someone with a rather sick imagination. The thin slimy skin was ashy-gray with an array of tiny scales that was forming intricate lines on the cheekbones and on the front. The cold red eyes with vertical pupils were gazing at the young couple with explicit contempt and hatred. Both his nearly absent nose and almost lipless mouth were more similar to those of a reptile than of a normal human being.

'Voldemort!' simultaneously cried out the Potters with horror, instantly pulling out their wands and pointing them at the Dark Lord's chest.

_'__Stupefy!__'__'__Expelliarmus!__'_

Two red beams flew swiftly to the intruder who lazily deflected them both with a single wave of his wand, covering himself with a translucent silver shield.

'Get out of my way, you stupid mudblood, I don't need you! Give me your son and I shall not interrupt your pathetic existence!' hissed Voldemort with irritation, _'__Congelio! Incarcero! Auferrocerebrum!__'_

James and Lily frantically toppled over the table in the middle of the dining room moving out of the wasy of the spells. Barely had they managed to hide behind the furniture, when the foul curses swished by, missing them by mere inches. The icy blue beam of the freezing charm turned their hideout into a snowy cavern. The Potters wasn't trying to attack anymore and, frankly speaking, they didn't simply possess the ability to oppose to the incredible power of the dark wizard. Their combined forces were scarcely enough to maintain the wards which were constantly trembling and crackling under the constant ramming of the mighty blows. Voldemort was no longer restraining himself, not hesitating to use the most gruesome curses of such a terrible power that the whole house was strongly shaking. The shields were gradually caving in under the Dark Lord's onslaught, and the young wizards had to continuously transform them, desperately trying to mend numerous gaping holes. Giving all their magical forces the young couple was drawing complex patterns of difensive spells without a moment's respite.

'Lily, I'm afraid we won't withstand the assault for much longer!' James exclaimed in frustration. In his intense gaze one could read grim determination and calm resignation. Evidently, there was only one way left for them to protect their son. 'The moment I give you a signal, you'll have to run upstairs as fast as you have never run in your life, my love, and you must try to save Harry! I'll try to do everything in my power to hold him back for as long as possible!'

'Don't you dare do such an outrageously insulting thing to me, James Potter!' shrieked Lily at once realizing with horror what exactly wanted to do her beloved one. Her face, already drained from tension, got even paler. Now it took the colour of the porcelain, while there was still lingering a flicker of hopeful plea in her impossibly green eyes. 'I won't let you sacrifice yourself leaving me behind! We'll get out of here, I promise! And we're going to do it together! We've already been in the situations like this and we always managed to get away unscathed! Please, my love, there's got to be a way, I beg you!'

'There's no other way this time, Lily, and I'm sure you already know that! Take Harry and flee!'

Meanwhile the shields were dangerously cracking, ready to disappear in any second. There were beads of sweat all over young man's face from unbearable tension and his whole body was shaking with convulsions. He was pouring out all the magical energy he possessed, pumping it out from the very depth of his magical core. James had already decided that he would do anything for the salvation of those dear to him. He won't leave even a drop of his magical resources for himself to win at all costs those precious seconds that his wife needed so desperately.

'Now! Hurry, my love! Run for the life of our son, as fast as your legs will carry you! I can't contain him any longer!'

'James, I love you!' the blazing glow of witch's eyes suddenly faded away, as though something very important had just been destroyed forever in their infinite depth and bitter tears were streaming down Lily's cheeks.

In the next moment the wizards simultaneously brought down the shields, passing to the counterattack. It seemed that the Dark Lord had not been expecting such a turn of events and was at a loss from such utter recklessness. That moment of confusion was enough for Lily to dash frantically to the stairs leaping over two steps at a time. In the meanwhile her husband was feverishly advancing like a wild beast, fighting for his family with cold fury and desperate determination. The beams of spells whistled by with unimaginable speed, the room was crackling, filled with overwhelming magic to the brim.

Having caught sight of the young witch escaping, the bloodshot eyes of the Dark Lord filled with blind rage and absolute indignation. He refused to believe that a pathetic couple of mediocre wizards was giving him so much trouble, delaying the execution of his plans. Seething with anger, Voldemort repelled the whole array of spells and curses flying in his direction with only one swift sweep of the wand.

'_Lacerovena! Frangossi!__' _the Dark Lord roared seeing red.

In Potter's direction rapidly flew two shining beams of curses of such immense power that the sight of them approaching towards him send cold shivers down the man's spine. James had already exhausted all his magical reserves and had to admit that he would not be able to raise a shield of equal potency to protect him from those lethal curses. The wizard proudly lifted his chin and intently looked with defiance into the eyes of his murderer, clenching his hands into fists.

'I'm not scared of you, Voldemort! My son shall avenge me one day!'

Precisely in this moment James was hit square in the chest with two beams. The force of the blow thrust him back to the wall like a rag doll. Having suffered the dreadful effects of the artery severing and bone fracturing curses, the battered body was convulsing in death agony, twisted and bent at wrong angles.

'Mindless muggle-loving brat! How could you even imagine to be able to defy the Dark Lord?' Voldemort hissed contemptuously observing the defeated enemy.

Without lingering any longer he hurried upstairs. With a quick wand movement the door leading to the nursery turned into dust. Looking around, the Dark Lord saw the mudblood standing beside an open window cradling the baby in her arms. Not being able to disapparate in the house protected by Fidelius Charm, Lily jumped out of the window.

'Wait, stupid girl!' Voldemort yelled rushing up to the window.

Lily meanwhile had already managed to get up from the ground and was running lamely trough the garden to the gates. The Dark Lord couldn't let them escape again, certainly not now that he was so close to reaching his goal.

_'__Clamoferalucus!__'_ maliciously hissed Voldemort drawing an intricate pattern with his wand.

Four shadows woven of the thick puffs of black smoke burst out from the tip of the wand. The revolting creatures, that resembled some unknown predatory beasts, flew to the girl like stray of arrows. In mere seconds they cought up with the fugitive, surrounding her in a tight circle. Petrified with terror, Lily clasped her son tightly to the breast, her heart sinking. Her shaking legs were giving away after a single glance at those chattering sharp fangs and burning mad eyes around the woman. Lily was trapped.

'So, I hope that you've enjoyed the fun! Now you should be convinced that there's neither hiding nor escaping from the Dark Lord!' viciously sneered Voldemort approaching the redhead girl. His eyes gleamed with greedy anticipation.

A careless wave of the wand, and the disgusting creatures vanished as if they had never existed before.

'Now, be a good girl, give me your child and step aside! If your are sufficiently obedient I won't harm you as there's no need for to spill your blood yet! One of my most faithful servants begged me to leave you alive...'

'No, no way! Leave him alone! I won't let you take my son! Just don't take him, take me instead! I beg you! Not Harry! I'll do anything!' desperately pleaded the woman.

Bitter tears were rolling down Lily's cheeks but she was trying to protect her only child till the very end, in spite of being in a deadlock. Pressing Harry more tightly to her breast she frenziedly tried to hide him from the danger as if she could protect the baby just with bare hands.

'Get out of my way, you imbecilic whore! This is the last time I'm so generously giving you the chance to choose life upon oblivion! Give this worthless spawn to me!" roared Voldemort quickly loosing his patience and pointing his wand at Lily.

'No, please, I'm begging you! Kill me instead, not Harry! Take my life!'

'Very well, you leave me no choice! _Avada Kedavra!_'

The beam of the deadly curse broke loose from the wand, and the flash of bright green light reflected in the Lily's eyes, frozen forever.

The baby, who had been silent all this time, frantically squealed helplessly clutching small fists. Voldemort pointed the tip of his wand at the boy with unconcealed anticipation and hissed, 'That's it, the Chosen One! Thus ingloriously ended your adventurous heroic path. From now on nothing and no one will stay on the way of my greatness! Everybody will bow to my power! The light will be engulfed by the darkness and the whole world will be shaken to its foundation!'

While the Dark Lord was shamelessly gloating about the solemnity of the moment, he didn't pay attention to the fact that the child's crying suddenly abated. The boy lifted up his huge almond-shaped eyes and gazed at the gigantic dark figure that was towering over him. Something subtly changed in the depth of those eyes, as if they didn't belong to a mere baby anymore. An ancient dormant force was staring from the abyss at the Dark Lord, like a poisonous snake ready to deliver a deadly strike.

'Goodbye, Harry Potter, you're going to see your mommy and daddy very soon!' Voldemort taunted the boy stretching his lipless mouth in an ugly grin._'__Avada Kedavra!__'_

The third time in the evening the acid green light broke away from the tip of the Dark Lord's wand and now headed off to the kid. No sooner had the killing curse been in mere inches away from the child than suddenly he was completely enveloped in some kind of glowing purple mist. Voldemort's eyes widened with sheer horror when he saw the green beam being deflected by the strange impenetrable cocoon and then instantly rushing to its master at full speed.

There was a deafening bang. Nearby trees were unceremoniously uprooted, while the frontage of the house collapsed with a thunderous rumble. A cloud of dust, wood shavings and construction rubble shot up in the air. In the place where the Dark Lord had stayed there was a huge gaping crater.

AN: Hey, everyone! Hope you've enjoyed this chapter and my rather poor English didn't discourage you from reading too much! As you surely understood I'm not a native speaker and, unfortunately, I've never been to any English-speaking country, for that matter... I would greatly appreciate all your reviews and tell me, please, if you think this is a load of rubbish! Thank you ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Suddenly two silent pops were heard in the middle of the ruins of the ramshackle house. Two tall figures with their wand at the ready came out of the shadow of the ancient elm tree bent down almost to the ground. The woman in a high pointed hat and horn-rimmed spectacles quickly looked around. Having discerned with great difficulty what had happened with the Potter's household, usually so neat and cozy, she tightened her grip on the wand and made her way deeper into the garden. The woman's companion, strangling a gasp at the sight of the terrible destruction, carefully followed.

'Don't use any spells without my explicit permission, stay close and be extremely careful!' the witch whispered tersely.

''Yes, Professor McGonagall, as you wish!'

At that a faint rustling and muffled sobs resounded nearby. Frowning, the professor slowly moved to the source of the noise.

'Maybe it's some wild animal or a stray cat?' suggested the wizard apprehensively, suppressing a shiver.

It was rather obvious that in their couple the young man wasn't in charge. He was visibly nervous and kept flinching at any sound, frantically biting his lips.

'It's highly unlikely, Mr. Dearborn... I highly doubt that local animals possess the ability of imitating a child's cry,' McGonagall hissed through clenched teeth, raising the hem of her robes in order to avoid catching on the uprooted stump. 'Furthermore, had they really been here before, after the explosion and magical discharge of such intensity all the living creatures would have been either dead or gone as far away as possible.'

The witch unexpectedly stopped. Her clumsy assistant had barely managed to slow down, almost bumping into the back of his stern boss. There was a huge crater gaping right in front of them. The upper layer of the soil was melted and covered with glassy substance in some places, as if it had been exposed to extremely high temperatures.

'Merlin's Beard! What on earth has happened here?' exclaimed McGonagall with unconcealed fear. _'Lumos Maxima!'_

A huge shining ball broke out of her wand. Hovering a few meters above the ground, it illuminated with what was left of the luxuriant garden. There was a baby wrapped in tiny blankets stirring and miserably squealing at the bottom of the crater.

'No way, is there the Potter's heir in the pit?!' mumbled Dearborn in bewilderment. 'How in the name of Merlin could he have gotten there?'

'I have no idea, but I do have a very bad feeling... Something really terrible must have happened here,' there was a clear alarm written on her face, _'Mobilicorpus!'_

The baby rose in the air and began to gradually soar up to the top of the crater, obeying the woman's wand movements. When Harry finally got in her arms, the witch saw a little muddy, but on the whole safe and sound boy. The only visible damage was a very bizarre lightning-shaped scratch on the forehead. When Professor McGonagall cleaned the child with a spell and put a warming charm on him, Harry sleepily closed his emerald eyes and snorted quietly, sinking in the arms of Morpheus.

'What a tough kid!' whispered tenderly Mr. Dearborn. 'However, where are his parents? What could have been the cause of such severe damage?'

'His parents are most likely dead, at least James for sure...'

Turning to the voice, the wizards saw a small light floating towards them in the darkness. Its source was probably a Lumos burning on the tip of someone's wand. When the newcomer approached, the shine of Professor McGonagall's soaring sphere pulled out of the dark a tall young man with glossy black hair which were gracefully falling down to his shoulders. There were traces of recently shed tears on his pale cheeks. Once mischievous and vivid eyes were lackluster, filled with pain and suffering from having just lost the dearest ones.

'Sirius? What are you doing here?' McGonagall asked, surprised. '

'I had put an alert charm on my godson in case he got harmed or someone tried to kidnap him. As soon as it went off, I managed to apparate right into the James and Lily's house,' it was quite noticeable that Sirius was struggling with the words, not being able to stop thinking about the horrible fate of his friends. 'There was no anti-apparition barrier any longer...'

'Yes, the Fidelius Charm is broken, we understood it too. Apparently, someone had betrayed the Potters giving away their location to Voldemort. But I still can't imagine what had happened here...'

'But do tell me how you got here exactly? And what is Caradoc doing here?'

'This evening Albus called up an emergency meeting at the headquarters, the one you didn't deign to attend by the way,' reproved the professor with a stern look, pursing her lips, 'and we were there... Hardly had we started discussing the uproar over the recent Dementor attack on the Minister, when the headmaster sensed an incredibly strong magical discharge in this area. So we were naturally ordered to check the Potters' house to make sure everything was all right.'

'And what the emergency consisted in precisely? The attack happened about a week ago and Snape reported only yesterday that Voldemort wasn't planning on any operation in the near future...'

Black was frowning in puzzlement. The only move the Dark Lord could have possibly made, and did make in the end, was the attack on Harry Potter and his family. And if Dumbledore somehow managed to learn it in advance, it remains unclear why the old man preferred to appoint a useless meeting instead of immediately sending a squad of Aurors to protect the Potters. Incidentally, the meeting Sirius hadn't been informed of...

'Well, Albus wanted to work out some possible ways of containing the Dementor threat... We didn't get time to know the rest of the agenda as the headmaster felt powerful vibrations of magic almost at the beginning of the meeting.'

'Very interesting...' Sirius mused, 'well, in that case I'd rather take Harry with me at once! There's no need to subject him to the fuss and bustle the Aurors' arrival will cause. The poor boy has already gone through too much distress. I should move him in a safe place as fast as possible.'

'Absolutely not, Sirius! That is out of the question!' steely notes appeared in the tone of McGonagall's voice. 'Albus gave us a strict order to bring the child to Hogwarts, should something happen to his parents.'

The witch pressed harder the baby to her breast, making it perfectly clear with all her appearance that she would not yield under no circumstances. In the meanwhile Caradoc was shifting uncomfortably, not daring meddle in the argument between the kid's godfather and his severe companion. He didn't want to get caught between the devil and the deep blue sea after all.

'Wait, but what does Dumbledore have to do with this, Minerva?' exclaimed the man in confusion. 'Now I'm the only one left to take care of him! I'm his godfather, for Merlin's sake! It's my legal right to become Harry's guardian!'

'I'm really sorry but there is nothing I could do to help you,' snapped the professor briskly, looking daggers. It was perfectly clear that one should not ague with her unless he wants to die a horrible and painful death. 'I will not disobey the direct order of the Head of the Order of the Phoenix! I suppose that the issue is settled.'

'All right, Minerva, as you wish,' at last tentatively agreed Sirius, 'the headmaster probably knows best what should be done in a situation like this. In that case, I'll try to find Peter... I've got grave misgivings about what had actually happened here... I should check if my assumptions are valid.'

'Then Albus will get in touch with you as soon as the picture gets clearer. We'll have to discuss the future of the child. See you soon, Sirius!'

'Good luck in your search, Mr. Black!' Caradoc awkwardly bade farewell, not being sure if there was any point in further irritating the wizard.

Sirius, for his part, didn't even pay attention to the last wards of the young Auror, being completely lost in his gloomy thoughts. Once McGonagall and Dearborn were gone, Black disapparated away to find Warmtail without further delay.

-oOoOo-

_'Licorice Wands!' _distinctly uttered the password Minerva.

The huge stone gargoyle which guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office with rather unfriendly look, obediently stepped aside. Carrying close to the heat the baby wrapped in warm blankets, the woman stepped confidently on the marble steps running up in a dizzy spiral. Caradoc, a little disconcerted, hunched up and followed the professor. Barely had McGonagall knocked on a huge oak door coated with iron when she heard Dumbledore's placid voice.

'Come in please, Minerva, Caradoc, my boy!'

Upon hearing the invitation, the professor snorted good-naturally and entered the room. _Ah, that man can't never miss the opportunity to show off. _

'Welcome, my dear, have a seat, please!' amiably offered the old man, happily twinkling with his piercing sky-blue eyes through half-moon spectacles. Without turning away his attentive gaze from the guests, Dumbledore gestured with invitation to a pair of cozy plush armchairs in front of the desk.

'Would you like a cup of tea, Minerva? Caradoc, my boy, I remember that you are quite fond of the sweets?' chucked the wizard merrily winking to the boy.

Hearing those inopportune pleasantries, McGonagall pursed her lips in a thin line and pierced her young companion with an irritated glance. Dearborn gulped down a lump in the throat, not daring accept a tempting offer. It was fairly obvious that otherwise he's going to be subjected to such a cruel punishment that the poor boy would never ever be able to eat anything at all.

'No, I'd rather not, thank you, Albus... at the moment we should deal with far more serious issues which brook no delay,' Minerva moved her imperturbable gaze to the head of the Order of the Phoenix, trying to point out politely that in the present circumstances they couldn't waste their time.

'Well, in that case I'm listening attentively, please report,' loosing all his playful demeanor, the old man said in all seriousness. There was no more good-natured sparkling in the headmaster's fixed intent look. Resolve and readiness settled in the sharp eyes gazing from under his bushy eyebrows. Nevertheless, the shoulders of the wizard stooped a little, even if it was barely noticeable for a less perceptive observer. It was as if another heavy load was laid on the shoulders of the leader of the Light.

'As you were afraid, the Potters had been betrayed and the Fidelius Charm is broken,' without a trace of emotion began reporting McGonagall, 'when we arrived to the supposed location of the magical explosion, it had been all over. What is left of the house presents a rather terrifying sight, the destruction is incredible. However, the prophecy you told us is apparently a true one. There was nothing left from the Dark Lord, apart from the gradually dissipating residual magic, although I can't be one hundred per cent sure. You should carefully examine the place of the tragedy by yourself. I and Mr. Dearborn found Harry at the bottom of a huge crater in the middle of the garden. It's quite evident that the explosion and the subsequent destruction of You-Know-Who occurred exactly in that place. I fear to even imagine what happened there.'

At that the witch lost for a moment her detached and calm appearance, suppressing a shiver as if from a sudden gust of chilling wind. Then she nervously swallowed and looked around.

'What happened to Lily and James? Was anyone else seen in the vicinity?' inquired the headmaster bringing the woman back to her tough report. Sympathy and encouragement were written in the wizard's clear gaze.

'Shortly after we found the baby,' Minerva nodded and continued more confidently, 'Sirius Black arrived there. He told us that he had felt the activation of the alert charm which he had supposedly put on his godson to trace him if somebody tried to harm him. Sirius apparated directly in the Potters' cottage and there he found James' body. Thus I think that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named murdered the boy's father and then tried to finish his mother. Yet in the meanwhile Lily must have managed to escape in the attempt to safe her son. I sincerely have no idea what happened to her but I'm afraid that her absence could only imply the only possible outcome... Her body must have been completely destroyed by the magical explosion like that of the Dark Lord... Of course, it is a mere guesswork, and the Aurors surely will be able to draw a more accurate picture after a thorough investigation.'

'Where did Sirius go, Minerva?' all of a sudden Dumbledore interrupted the report with a swift wave of his hand.

Catching every word of the professor, the headmaster leaned slightly forward keeping his disturbed and sharp gaze at the Head of Gryffindor House.

'He informed me that he would go in search of Peter, saying that he had some bad suspicions,' McGonagall replied hesitantly knowing that something was wrong.

'Minerva, but how in the world could you have let him go?! James made him the Secret-Keeper! What happened today undoubtedly indicates that Black betrayed the Potters in cold blood and gave their whereabouts to Voldemort!' exclaimed the headmaster, staring in astonishment at the professor and rapidly getting up from the table.

'But Albus, how could I have possibly known this information? You yourself insisted that it should be top secret and accessible only to you and, of course, to the Potters? What do we do now? Black should be urgently found and arrested!' hysterically cried out the witch, twisting her trembling hands and clasping them to her heavily raising breast.

'Forgive me, Minerva, I'm getting rather old... Of course, you didn't know, it's my mistake.. Caradoc, my boy,' Dumbledore turned his stern gaze at the Auror, who was nervously shifting from foot to foot and wringing his hands behind his back, 'go in search of Black right away! This is an order of paramount importance! I'm going to contact Cornelius and summon the members of the Order immediately, but we can't waste a single minute! Start with the examination of Godric's Hollow and try to keep the track of the residual magic from the apparition there. It hasn't passed too much time yet, so you might be able to back trace its destination!

Dumbledore was pacing in front of the desk in utter concentration, pinching the bridge of his nose with his long fingers and knitting his thick grey eyebrows. Determination and swiftness were distinctly visible in his every movement. An array of wrinkles on the forehead and in the corners of the wizard's eyes was the evidence of a great mind that was calculating, processing and discarding hundreds of possibilities and appropriate solutions within mere seconds.

'Yes, sir, I'll follow in his footsteps at once and we'll find his trail, I promise! You have my word!' firmly assured Caradoc with excited glow in his eyes and ran out of the room while bowing to his superiors on the way.

Albus suddenly stopped in his tracks. Apprehension and anxiety, that had ruled every his movement, disappeared not leaving a trace, his old features smoothed. Dignity and composure settled in his posture making his bearing truly majestic. His lips stretched into a placid and rather amused smile.

'Hmm, you know me really bad, my boy... There is hardly any situation that could take me unawares,' mattered the wizard, following the young man with calm detached eyes. 'Minerva, leave Harry,' the headmaster gestured absent-mindedly towards the soft armchair, 'you know what to do...'

'Yes, Albus, I will do everything exactly as you said, rest assured.'

Having carefully placed the sleeping child in the armchair, the witch curtly nodded to the headmaster and left the office. She was to play her part perfectly.

-oOoOo-

The starry night had been still cradling in its affectionate embrace the outskirts of Hogsmeade refusing to give way to the bloody-red dawn. She believed that, one way or another, her magnificent dark cover was far more suitable to hide a web of ugly scars that maimed such a fretful and cruel lady as reality. The thunderstorm was over and only the cold distant stars with the arrogantly indifferent moon were able to witness those bizarre events that were taking place in the wizarding world. Their detached dim light took out of the darkness a striped cat that were stealthily sneaking towards the border of the school grounds. Taking light steps on the soft grass, drenched after the downpour, and straining her pointed ears, the animal stopped in front of the Shrieking Shack. Having attentively looked around with her huge yellow eyes to verify the absence of possible witnesses, the cat started to grow. Her limbs began to elongate and transform, more and more distinctly acquiring human forms. Casting the last wary glance in the darkness, the woman disappeared.

A moment later two graceful shadows came out of the gloom gathered under the thick canopy of the century-old oak, that was standing nearby.

'Apparently, everything is going on exactly as we expected,' there was heard a muffled female voice.

'Yes, we were absolutely right in the end. I think you should stay here and watch the old coot. As for me, I'm going to sit on the tail of our pussy cat,' answered a deep male voice.

The shadows dissolved into the darkness, and now neither the stars nor the moon could discern them. Of course, if they really cared.


	3. Chapter 3

Minerva slowly took in with a watchful eye the old abandoned docks along the riverside of the night Thames. Apparently, she was somewhere in the eastern part of industrial London. There was dead silence around her, and some sparse lantern lights were eerily reflecting in the murky water of the river.

Pulling out of the pocket a little golden trinket she decided to check one more time the right coordinates. _Amazing,_ once again inwardly admired the witch, examining the magical compass, _I should do him justice, Albus has always possessed the rare talent of creating excellent and rather useful artifacts. _From a traditional Muggle compass the magical one differed greatly. Its case was wholly covered with ornate runic symbols, the destination of which Minerva didn't even try to comprehend. There were two curved platinum needles inside, which were fixed on the disk trimmed with dark blue velvet. The longer one pointed to the precise direction that one should follow to find a wanted person. A small socket with a tiny red bead could be seen on its quite large tip. The second needle, the smaller one, was situated right in the center of the compass and indicated the estimated distance up to the intended target. McGonagall knew that none other than a drop of Peter Pettigrew's blood was inside the miniature bead of glass. The unsuspecting boy voluntarily agreed to the ritual that allowed to bind the device to his magical imprints. The fool had unconditionally provided all the necessary insurance that in case of emergency he would be easily traced.

Constantly observing the changes in the behavior of the device, Minerva started to carefully advance along the river bank, weaving through the piles of construction rubber, abandoned leaky boats and rows of huge iron containers. At the moment when the central needle of the compass began rotating with quite impressive speed, the keen ear of the woman discerned a barely audible whimper. Quietly walking along the boxes, sealed with heavy cast-iron locks, the witch started to hear more and more clearly muffled howling and whining. She stopped abruptly and consulted with her resourceful assistant. The distance needle was spinning so fast that it seemed there was a sparkling platinum ring in the middle of the compass. The leafs of the container, in front of which the professor came to a halt, were tightly closed. However, the lock was missing as if it had been neatly sawed off.

Hiding the device in the folds of the cloak and gripping more tightly the wand, Minerva swiftly opened the box and rushed inside. Pitch darkness greeted the woman with revolting stench and stale fusty air.

_'Lumos!' _exclaimed McGonagall, trying to cover her nose with the sleeve as tightly as possible to somehow escape from the unbearable stink.

Dim light at the tip of her wand pulled out of the darkest corner a miserable figure, crouched in the pile of dirty rags permeated with the smell of sweat and feces. All the walls were furrowed with deep scratches inside which gore and pieces of skin could be seen. It seemed that the wretched creature didn't respond to the extrinsic stimuli, not noticing the intruder in his precarious shelter. Continuously shuddering with silent sobs and whimpering at times, the man was trying to burrow deeper into the fetid trash, thus seeking to cut himself off from reality. _Hmm, apparently the effect of the potion only increases with the course of time_. The professor concluded with curiosity. _Snape can be an unbearable brat __sometimes _but he is truly a superb potions maker, there's no denying. It's necessary to act quickly until Pettigrew is totally engrossed with primal fear. 

Firmly pointing the wand at the poor excuse of a human being, Minerva whispered,_ 'Imperio!'_

_-oOoOo-_

Tom hadn't witnessed such a pandemonium in his roadside pub for quite a long time, even in spite of the fact that this place was one of the few links that connected the wizarding world with the world of Muggles. Ever since started this terrible and bloody war, few had been brave enough to spend their leisure time sipping a mug of good old ale at a cozy wooden table. As a rule, visitors tried to go as fast as possible to the back door in order to settle quickly their affairs in Diagon Alley and return to the relative safety of their homes. Today, on the contrary, despite the late hour, the small tavern was jam-packed with magical folk. It should be remarked that there was no merriment and outright spree yet. However, some cautious anticipation and timid hope had been already hovering in the air. With melodic play of soft music coming from an ancient gramophone, the wizards exchanged whispers in hushed voices, casting around apprehensive glances. The rabble reminded of the swarm of insects, the way they were crowded around closely spaced round tables and shifting in agitation from one group to another. Everyone acted as though was waiting for something.

Suddenly the doors of the Leaky Cauldron opened, and the general expectation ended in a rather unexpected way. Stumbling, catching on chairs and tables along the way and paying no attention to the silenced visitors, Peter Pettigrew headed for the counter. It was quite difficult to recognize an Auror of the Ministry and a vehement fighter against You-Know-Who in this repulsive ragamuffin. Regardless, puzzled buzz and bustle started gradually rising in the room. Someone hurriedly left the pub, others were whispering in confusion, nodding and pointing in the newcomer's direction. In the meantime Peter, totally indifferent to the surroundings, perched on the bar chair and ordered a glass of fire-whiskey, turning around to face the entrance.

When unconcealed indignant shouts began to fly from the crowd and the movement started, the door to the pub opened once again and breathless Sirius rushed inside. Seeing his ex-schoolmate, Peter changed at once. His face was contorted with unspeakable spite, from his glowing eyes, filled with undisguised misunderstanding and hate, were pouring floods of tears.

'I've been waiting for you, Sirius!' roared Peter, jumping down his throat. 'How could you? Tell me, how could you betray our best friends? You've gone too far in your chase of power! I can't believe that you stooped to crawl to the Dark Lord and blurt out James and Lily's location!'

'What are you blabbing about?' Black was rooted to the spot, clearly caught unawares.

'You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, you traitorous scum!' with foam at his mouse, Pettigrew was incensed, clenching his fists and reeling. His every word was saturated with desperate torment and pain of betrayal.

The silence, that meanwhile swallowed the Leaky Cauldron, echoed with Peter's severe accusations. Astonished and shocked spectators, being unable to find their tongues, were motionless watching the scene unfolding before their eyes. As for Sirius, he was like everybody else petrified, with his jaw dropped, staring at the blatant liar and not being able to believe his ears.

'You are a pathetic and worthless coward, Sirius! You betrayed our best friends and now... Now they are dead! You murdered them! You're a murderer, Black! Their blood is on your hands!' was moaning Peter, gulping and stuttering.

At this moment there was heard a creak of the entrance door behind Sirius' back, and panting, disheveled and red-faced Auror Dearborn ran into the tavern. Sudden appearance of the young wizard finally brought Sirius out of stupefaction. Loosing all remnants of self-control, he furiously pulled out his wand and pointed it right at the chest of the shameless liar.

'You loathsome and quirky garbage rat...'

There was a deafening explosion and the small room of the Leaky Cauldron got lit with dazzlingly bright flash of white light. A sick cloud of dust shot up in the air and everybody was showered with splinters and shattered glass. Blood-curdling screams resounded in the chaos. Scared out of their wits the wizards started terrible bustle and hustle. The survived was desperately trying to leave the ruined pub, pushing and shoving each other. Amid all the madness came wild barking laughter. Sirius was on his knees not far from the epicenter of the explosion, where poor Peter had stood before. Roaring with laughter, as if completely deranged, he was cheerfully staring at what was left from his former school friend: the scraps of clothing and a few fragments of bloody flesh.

'You slimy rascal! How could have I forgotten!' Black exclaimed, trying to clear his throat and wiping tears with a scrap of his robe. 'You've transformed after all!'

'There he is! Arrest him!' came the orders from someone behind, but Sirius paid no heed, croaking and making hoarse sounds.

'Are you sure, Auror Dearborn?'

'Yes, Auror Shacklebolt! I saw with my own eyes how he blew up Peter Pettigrew and half a tavern with him! Pettigrew had accused him of treason while Black was laughing in reply! Take a look, he is still laughing after having killed in cold blood so many innocents! Sick bastard!' Deaborn growled through clenched teeth and spat in his direction with indignation.

The squad of Aurors quickly immobilized the criminal, tied him up and ushered out of the pub. There was heard a series of muffled pops of disapparition from the street. At that moment a figure, wrapped in the black cloak from head to foot, peeped from behind the far corner of the half-destroyed building.

'No, dear Sirius, you're wrong,' whispered the woman with satisfaction, scanning the scene of the tragedy with calculating gaze, 'Pettigrew didn't transform, he is dead indeed.'

For the last time glancing with cold yellow eyes over the reign of chaos and destruction, the striped cat sniffed scornfully. Having carefully made her way to the exit, McGonagall jumped over the threshold and trotted away, dissolving in the streets of London.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN**: Thanks a lot for the first reviews, you made my day! Here is a short new chapter! Anyway, later I'm going to unite some chapters to make them longer and better organized. I decided to do quick updates in order not to keep you waiting for too long ;) I hope you enjoy it! Feel also free to review, I'd appreciate it greatly!

-oOoOo-

Night lanterns were still burning on the straight, as if aligned with a ruler, streets of Little Whinging. This small quiet town in the north-east of Surrey was plunged in the pre-dawn slumber. Identical cottages were lined up in a perfect rank along the main road. There were outrageously well-groomed gardens in front of each house with impeccably mowed green lawns, gorgeous flowerbeds and skilfully trimmed hedges. The only visible diversity in the property of local inhabitants was represented decidedly by the cars. There were two or even three expensive cars standing in all their splendour beside each cottage. Clean as a whistle, it seemed that they were deliberately exposed for common admiration. Time appeared powerless in this isolated island of success and prosperity. Nothing could disturb the flow of serene exemplary lives of the local residents.

Fortunately, they didn't know that their customary mode of life will cease to be ordinary and devoid of all sorts of oddities this morning of All Saints' Day. The fact was that the inhabitants of Little Whinging feared the most any deviation from their life in an ivory tower. In the meanwhile the fate decided otherwise, and the events, that was going to happen in this secluded suburban town, would go down in the magical history forever.

There was a barely audible pop at the beginning of Privet Drive, one of the most exemplary and respectable streets of the settlement. Praise Merlin, it was an early frosty morning and the locals didn't get the chance to witness such an extraordinary by any measure event. A tall, thin old man, whose silvery grey beard was tucked behind a wide purple belt, looked around with interest. His piercing blue eyes, filled with merrily dancing sparkles, were studying the street over a pair of half-moon spectacles. Poking around in the pockets of his sky-blue robe, the eccentric old man pulled out a small silver object resembling a cigarette lighter. Throwing back the lid, the man pointed the device in the direction of burning street lanterns and clicked a few times. The lights, that had illuminated the road, slowly left the lamps and soared dutifully to the stranger, hiding inside the weird lighter. Chuckling with satisfaction and readjusting a small bundle in his arms, the newcomer wrapped himself more tightly in his wide cloak and walked along the empty street. Finally, stopping in front of number four, the stranger attentively scanned his surrounding. The wane moon was casting soft dim light on the sleeping town. Only the light breeze of the wind was hesitantly murmuring in the yew trees and barely audible rustle of night birds was coming from the darkness. Suddenly a cracking sound of branches was heard from the left, and a striped cat leaped down from the green fence, mewing in greeting.

'Excellent, Minerva, you're just in time,' smiling in his beard, welcomed the old man, 'How did it go?'

'Everything was done exactly according to our plan, and went swimmingly,' the woman's lips stretched into a proud grin. 'The Panic Potion exceeded all our expectations, its effect was truly wonderful! However, I must add that it turned out to be toxic... Instead of gradually leaving his body, the poisoning began increasing exponentially. By the time I found Peter, he had almost lost all sense of what was going on around him and was on the verge of insanity. If I had arrived a little later, everything could have gone to the dogs. Fortunately, I was in time, while capturing him in such wrecked condition was rather easy.'

'Yes... Potions making is undoubtedly one of the most amazing and subtle branches of magical knowledge, poisons in particular... these invisible but, at the same time, incredibly destructive and merciless assistants of the wizard,' muttered aloof Dumbledore, considering with sadness and determination the untroubled baby, that was dozing in his arms.

'Albus, are you all right?' a little sheepishly inquired McGonagall, surveying the headmaster at a loss.

'Yes, yes...' returning to reality, Dumbledore assured vividly. 'Now the task of paramount importance, my dear, is to prevent the leak of secret information. It seems rather unlikely that Severus would take interest in the destination of his potion, while the ministry sleuths, would be able to create some inconvenience under unfavourable circumstances. I wouldn't like this delicate information to become public. Black's guilt should seem incontrovertible! The fact that Peter crawled to Tom under the effect of the Panic Potion would draw excessive attention and raise undesirable suspicions.'

'It's amazing that it was enough to throw only a couple of fleeting phrases about invincibility and unimaginable cruelty of the Dark Lord in the boy's presence,' reminisced detached McGonagall, but then she frowned uneasily. 'But if the Aurors take it into their head to conduct a thorough investigation and examine the remnants...'

'Well, it only indicates that we'll have to pull out all the stops to make sure that no investigation or inquiry is conducted,' interrupted Dumbledore, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. 'This should be an open-and-shut case! My dear, it wasn't for nothing that I organized everything so that Caradoc arrived in the Leaky Cauldron just in time to catch Sirius red-handed... moreover, with a squad of Aurors sitting on his tail. The boy will provide the necessary evidence and present it all in the best possible light. And that's not taking into account the impressive number of the survivors, who witnessed the incident.'

'And the Minister? He might want to use this scandalous case to preside over the official hearings, thus increasing his influence over the Wizengamot.'

'No, Minerva, today the entire magical world is going to be consumed with unrestrained euphoria, rejoicing over the victory. The Minister will put Black behind the bars of Azkaban as quickly as a dog can lick a dish, there's no doubt! I bet he'll break his back to avoid any fuss and delay, in order to heal as fast as possible the last festering wounds and join the frivolous celebrations. The Daily Prophet will likely publish a couple of inspirational articles about efficiency and effectiveness of the Ministry, and very soon everyone will happily forget this awful tragedy. I hope Sirius won't suffer for long, besides, we don't want the unnecessary complications in the future, do we? Probably I ought to take some precautions...'

Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully, weighing up acceptable alternatives.

'Albus, I suppose we'd better hurry for it's already dawning, and the Dursleys are going to wake up any minute!' Minerva tried to draw the headmaster's attention, turning him to the tasks at hand. Sometimes the man was so absorbed into trying to foresee every eventuality and its outcome, that he completely lost touch with reality.

'Yes, yes... Definitely,' the wizard collected himself, blinking a little confused. 'We have to finish with young Mr. Potter, I'm afraid.'

Dumbledore opened the low gates to enter Dursley's property and made his way along the narrow asphalt road, that led to the front door. Then Albus gently put the bundle on the green shaggy carpet at the entrance with a cheerful word 'Welcome' written on it. Harry tightly wrapped in a warm quilt stirred at the sudden change of his position, but shortly calmed down. Then the headmaster took out of his pocket a wax sealed envelope and put it next to the baby. Having pensively looked into the dark curtained windows of the sleeping house, Dumbledore turned to his companion.

'All done! There is no need in staying here any longer,' with a sense of accomplishment proclaimed the wizard. 'I hope firm aversion to magic and deep-rooted hatred towards her sister will not become an insurmountable obstacle for our dear Petunia! I'm certain she'll find a small place in her heart for one more wonderful child!'

'And what if she didn't, Albus?' voiced Minerva a strong doubt, sceptically arching an eyebrow.

'Be that as it may, it's all for the greater good,' firmly assured Dumbledore, one last time glancing indifferently over dull and unnaturally perfect Dursley's garden.

All the lamps lit up at once on the still deserted street, and two short muted pops marked the departure of the two wizards.

-oOoOo-

At the same time, a brownish-grey hawk dived like greased lightning from the dense foliage of the yew tree on the green hedge. Turning his head in all directions, the predator stared into the darkness with its sharp unblinking orange eyes. Evidently coming to a conclusion that there was no danger, the bird jumped promptly on the stone road. A moment later, its place was already occupied by a tall slender figure, muffling with cold in its long black robes. Dropping lower the hood, the stranger hastily pulled out a small book, covered with ribbed black leather, and a quill. Having excitedly scribbled something on a black parchment page, he rushed to the baby, who was still serenely snoozing on the cold stone steps. Just a few minutes later, another figure appeared next to the first one, slim and elegant.

'You'll tell me everything later,' the man whispered anxiously without turning around. 'We need to hurry until the Muggles wake up!'

'Do you want to take him away just like this?' frowning inquired the woman, peering over the shoulder of her companion with undisguised curiosity. 'Perhaps, it would be much safer if Mandolin created a dead twin? We could trick them into thinking that Harry Potter was murdered by Death Eaters out of thirst for revenge! Evan, judge for yourself...'

'It's out of the question!' hissed angrily the wizard, carefully handing the baby to the woman and hurriedly hiding the headmaster's letter inside his inner pocket. 'Firstly, we don't have time, and secondly, the dark magic will surely leave lasting traces. We have no right to take risks! The use of any kind of magic is strictly prohibited! Lets get out of here!'

The young witch who was now gently rocking the baby, decided for once to obey her troubled companion. Adjusting their hoods to completely hide their faces, the mysterious strangers linked their arms and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

About a half an hour later, a milkman, whistling merrily something under his breath, put a few bottles of fresh milk on the empty step of number four, Privet Drive. Later on, the front door swung open and Petunia Dursley peeped out, still sleepy but already anticipating so long-awaited celebration of All Saints' Day. Approvingly nodding, she took the milk and headed for the kitchen with the intention to cook a delicious porridge for breakfast. Oh, how thrilled her Ickle Dudleykins will be! That day the capricious fate decided that Petunia Dursley never met her hated nephew. Perhaps, it's for the best.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **Here's a new chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it! Please, review!

The gloomy forest on the border of Derbyshire county was grimly surveying the rays of the morning sun, stubbornly refusing to let these impudent intruders penetrate his dusky property. Despite the fall, closely interwoven branches and the dense canopy of century trees were still protecting their secluded master from the prying eyes of outsiders. The damp soil was gently covered with musty colorful foliage, fallen trees, twigs and branches. Swift swishes, cautious rustle, decisive crackling, stubborn knocks and a great multitude of other noises, which indicated the incessant activity of forest dwellers, were coming from everywhere. Unexpectedly, bustling forest workers froze at once and became alerted, while the most reasonable squirrel of the forest preferred to whisk into the hollow, clutching tightly her precious acorn in the sharp little teeth. There was a crackle of dry twigs and the rustling of dry leaves. Working their way through thickly overgrown hazel bushes and snowball trees, two strangers got out on the clearing.

'Hmm, it seems that I've lost my bearings with time,' muttered the woman in annoyance, trying to get rid of a thorny sprout of wild raspberry. 'Much time has gone by since I happened to visit the Fiore di Pietra last time.'

'It's okay, my darling, it can never hurt to get a bit of fresh air and stretch our legs,' assured the man his companion. In response, she dubiously glanced over his cloak, torn in several places and strewn with bur. 'Remember, until we get into a safe place we must not use any magic. It was not for nothing that we had jumped all over the country to throw them off our track... In such a situation one can never be overcautious.'

With a curt nod the witch proceeded to work her way through thick bushes, protecting little Harry with the flap of her mantle. The wizard was trying to do his best to closely follow her but had hard time catching up due to the limp in his left leg. At last, about quarter of an hour later, the couple reached a steep canyon. Its slops were overgrown with bushes and weed, running deep down to the rapid waters of winding mountain stream at the bottom of the ravine. There were hundreds of dark eerie caves in the high cliffs of the gorge which were staring at the intruders with their empty eye sockets.

'So pray tell me, which one is ours?' sarcastically inquired Evan. 'I hope you've already found your sense of direction?'

Having decided that her husband didn't deserve an answer, the woman just darted an askance glare in his direction and stepped up to the edge of the canyon, looking for something in its depth.

'No, I don't really mind enjoying chilling fresh air in a dank creepy forest, you know... The sunset is still a long way off after all.'

'Oh, will you stop making a mountain out of a molehill? I haven't been here since childhood, what did you expect?' snapped the witch loosing her patience.

Unceremoniously grabbing the sleeve of the unbearable man's cloak, the woman suddenly apparated to the narrow ledge of rock down the slope.

'Bloody hell, Isa! You could have warned me! It would be a shame to break my neck in the thick of some forsaken forest after all the work done!' frantically shouted the wizard, taken unawares and swaying dangerously.

'Our cave is safely hidden from prying eyes and it's not so easy to get in,' explained coldly Isadora not paying a heed to the accusation. 'Otherwise there would be a great possibility that someone simply stumbled on it. Hold the baby!'

Casting a wary eye on the small bundle, Evan gently picked up the kid who was innocently snuffling in the blankets. Unabashed, the woman faced the sheer stone wall of the cliff and touched the cold granite with her palms. Gently kissing it with her lips she whispered, '_Victoria nulla est...'_

Then the witch took her husband's hand and went right through the stone wall. As soon as the couple stepped inside the cool cavern, two torches ignited in carved brackets in front of the entrance filling everything with flickering light. There was a round slab made of pink-crimson marble between the blazing lights. Sticking out of the granite wall, it was as tall as a man. Its centre was decorated with a small bud of a brown-red stone rose which was surrounded by ornate runic symbols. Four wavy lines ran from the perimeter of the slab to the flower, cutting its surface like a four-leaf clover. There were numerous magical creatures carved on the marble: fierce dragons and predatory harpies, deceitful sirens and bloodthirsty three-headed dogs, treacherous chimeras and furious hippogriffs.

'Will you be able to tune me into the wards?' asked Evan.

'Despite the fact that I took your last name, the Fiore di Pietra continues to recognize me as a member of my family by the right of blood,' explained the woman approaching the slab, 'therefore, we'll have to wait for Isabella to make the wards acknowledge you. Only she, being the head of the family, has the power to give you a pass and create the ring.'

The witch gently inserted her family ring into the groove in the centre of the flower, '_…Quam quae confessos animo quoque subjugat hostes,'_ she quietly finished the secret phrase.

At the very moment those words left her mouth, the petals of the stone rose began oscillating. After a second, the red bud blossomed revealing a shallow recess. Putting her hand into the deepening in the shape of a hand print, the witch rapidly turned the sparkling disc several times. There was a slight rattle and in the next instant the four leaves of the slab divided and slid away, vanishing from the view into the granite wall of the cavern. A circular dark passage appeared before the wizards' eyes.

'Well, that's definitely a tricky cover! I must give your ancestors their due for creating such a fascinating protection!' the man acknowledged with approval.

'Why, the Zabini family is not famous for its ability to keep secrets without reason after all,' grinned Isa with pride, playfully winking to her husband and inviting him to follow with a nod.

Barely had the wizards stepped over the threshold, when they were unceremoniously pulled into the blackness as if having a hook around their belly. After a few seconds of whirlpool of colours the couple appeared in a practically identical cavern and went outside through the opposite wall.

'Toto? I have a feeling we're not in Kansas any more...' whistled Evan in astonishment. The man's jaw dropped as he was gaping at the scenery before his round eyes.

The wizards were standing on a semi-circular stone terrace protected by a low parapet from the edge. Cautiously approaching the brink of the small platform and peering over the parapet, Evan saw a sheer precipice dropping off into the foggy depth of a bottomless abyss. Numerous chains of snowy mountain crests with frightfully steep slopes were stretched all around them as far as the eye could see. The cold sun was shining blindingly bright and twinkling with myriad of colours reflected by fluffy snow. The air was crystal clear and fresh, while the frosty wind was gently flapping the folds of the wizards' wide cloaks. Steep winding stairs, carved directly in the stone, ran up the rocky slope from the terrace. The distant steps far above the wizards led up to the huge iron gates, which were obstructing an archway passage between enormous granite boulders.

'You're right, my dear, we're in the Italian Alps,' cheerfully proclaimed the witch, letting the cat out of the bag and vividly starting the ascent, 'at a height of more than three thousand meters above the sea level.'

'It's good to know that we aren't under the ground at least, I suppose...' Evan made an acid remark in reply. 'Why on earth have you been hiding such an amazing place from me for so long?'

'This castle has served from time immemorial as a secret asylum for my ancestors. Many generations of the Zabini family hid behind these unassailable walls from their enemies,' patiently explained the witch. 'My parents took refuge in the Fiore di Pietra during the sanguinary war against Grindelwald. It's the sacred duty of each member of our family to diligently guard the secrets of this castle. We have the right to extend the protection of these impregnable walls just on those who are close to our heart and only as a last resort.'

'Well, it's quite reasonable,' admitted Evan, following his wife as she was climbing up the steep stairs. 'We should be glad that this wonderful shelter could be at our disposition now that it's needed so dearly. Almighty Morgana! This thrice damned leg is going to bring me to my grave! I'll tear him into pieces next time we meet!'

The wizard gave an involuntary shudder and grimaced in pain, stopping to rest for a moment or two. Isadora looked sympathetically at her companion, trying to keep a stiff upper lip and offering tacit support. She knew that her husband hated displaying any kind of weakness with all his heart. Evan wouldn't tolerate any pity on his behalf. However, he should thank his lucky stars for being still alive. Mad-Eye left her husband at the brink of death a couple of years ago. It happened when Regulus started to act rather strangely, dropping subtle hints and vanishing into thin air for days. Evan decided to join the Death Eaters to find out what his ex-classmate was up to. With the help of Thorfinn Rowle he managed to arouse Voldemort's interest. One day Evan was invited to participate in a raid to demonstrate his combat skills and the ability to operate in a real life environment. The task seemed fairly simple at first sight, but immediately after their arrival at a remote Muggle village, the Death Eaters had the misfortune to bump into rather unexpected complications. There must have been a leak as the dark wizards had been driven into a trap. The battle with the Aurors and the Order members was a merciless slaughter. The Death Eaters were greatly outnumbered and, for the major part, were composed of fresh recruits. That night Evan missed the inglorious death by a hair's breadth. He managed to escape alive from the upcoming Moody's killing curse only thanks to his faithful spy in the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix. The venture turned out to be a total failure, for while Rosier was recovering at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Black disappeared from the face of the earth and no one was able to give any credible information on his whereabouts. Luckily, after this raid the Dark Lord left Evan alone, refusing to have anything to do with that miserable excuse of a wizard. The man found the only consolation in the fact that he somehow contrived to take a big chunk out of Moody's nose and permanently damage his eye during their duel.

Regaining his composure after a while, Evan continued ascending with grim determination, trying not to shift his weight on the left leg. Soon the narrow passage was blocked by the giant gates. Its thick iron rods were dotted with sharp spines and closely intertwined forming intricate patterns. There was an ornate inscription high above. _Multi multa; nemo omnia novit, _read the man inwardly, guessing that apparently it was the motto of the Zabini.

The witch twisted the jewel on her family ring, turned it towards her palm and grabbed her husband's hand once again. Sticking out the hand with the ring, she marched through the thick bars. The couple appeared in a large snow-covered courtyard surrounded by high forbidding walls. A dour stone castle cut out right in the granite rock was brought before their eyes. Narrow barred windows were surveying grimly the intruders from a height of sixty feet, while bottomless blue sky was pierced by distant towers with loopholes. The building looked nothing like delicate and pompous English palaces of pureblood families. The Fiore di Pietra was more like a menacing indestructible citadel from the outside.

'I suppose a set of defensive charms, impenetrable wards and nasty traps for intruders is attached?' smiled the man with approval, surveying the stone fortress apprehensively.

'Of course, it goes without saying... Apart from traditional invisibility and unplottability spells, Muggle-repelling charms, anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards, the castle is surrounded by an impervious web of shields with guarding and alarm system. That also includes the runic ones and those tied to blood magic,' explained the witch with undisguised pride. 'Each family member has contributed to the defence of this asylum for many generations, trying to close the tiniest gaps.'

'How lovely,' smirked the wizard, 'My only hope is not to get caught in some nasty trap and remain in one piece...'

All of a sudden, a blood-curdling scream and the rustle of huge wings came from somewhere above. A quick shadow flashed by the intruders. A moment later, a creature of quite an impressive size rapidly swooped down from the sky knocking Isadora to the ground. Instantly regaining his senses, Evan swiftly draw his wand with a trained motion and pointed it at the dangerous winged creature with the head and front legs of an eagle and the body of a lion.

'Stop!' shouted a warning the witch, laughing herself into fits in the snow. An incredibly ferocious and bloodthirsty predator began jumping ridiculously around the girl, wallowing in the snow. The monster, ludicrously pattering about with its strong hind legs and waving his golden wings, cooed invitingly and clicked its beak. 'This is our guard griffin Leonardo! He won't hurt us, don't worry!'

'Oh, really? You must be kidding me...' the wizard was struck dumb at hearing this ridiculous declaration.

Finally, Isadora managed to get out of the snowdrift and started carelessly romping about with the happy creature, giggling, playfully slapping his sinewy sides and pulling the mane. It seemed that those two were having the time of their life.

'Oh, Leo, I haven't seen you for ages! You rouge scamp, you should be really ashamed! You shouldn't have scared my poor husband to death!' the witch was berating the griffin with feigned seriousness, who rose up on its hind legs. 'Poor thing, you must have felt so lonely and miserable all by yourself in this empty cold castle!'

'Hmm, a guard griffin... It's quite inventive, I should admit...' muttered Evan raising his eyebrows and relaxing a little. 'It wouldn't be that surprising if I stumbled upon a Dementor in the entrance hall. You know, wearing an apron, with a mop and a duster. But how in the world could this freedom-loving predator have lived here for all this years by himself without flying away?'

'Yes, you're absolutely right... The griffin is an incredibly independent creature of great endurance and resourcefulness. It can easily provide itself with a shelter and food. Besides, there's no need to mention that these predators can certainly stand up for themselves,' agreed Isadora, tenderly looking at her childhood friend. 'The problem is that there's no way a griffin could be tamed, and one could earn their goodwill only in an exceptional case. In fact, that's exactly how it happened... You see, my grandfather found Leo on one of the micro-islands near Sardinia. It was so awful! He was a little cub back then, and a pack of chimeras torn his mother into pieces! The griffin wasn't even able to feed by himself. You can't even imagine how terrible his state was when Lord Zabini came across the poor creature. In the end, my grandfather saved and healed Leo. He brought him up practically taking the place of his parents. So, the griffin has faithfully served our family ever since. His lifespan is rather long I should say...'

At last, patting Leo tenderly at her parting, Isadora, closely followed by her husband, entered the welcoming wide open oak doors of the Fiore di Pietra. Barely had the couple stepped into the spacious hall when hundreds of candles lit up everywhere, illuminating the main marble stairs, stone walls and arches with soft golden light. There wasn't a single speck of dust to be seen anywhere. All the interior decorations shone with pristine cleanness and freshness: suits of armour and skilfully crafted statues along the walls, antique furniture and weapons, huge portraits in exquisite golden frames, candlesticks and candelabra.

Immediately, there were two short pops in front of the wizards. A pair of absolutely identical house-elves appeared before their eyes. It was clear at first glance that these short and bald creatures were closely related. At the sight of their owners both elves began vigorously leaping, bulging their enormous blue eyes and flapping their huge bat-like ears. The only difference between the two congeners was the colour of their wide robes. The elf on the right was fiddling with his light-green vestments, while his friend was trying to straighten the folds of his deep-purple robes. There was a dark blue badge with silver fringe sewn on the chest of each elf. In the centre of this emblem there were two snakes intertwined around a circular magical crystal. Watching the creatures, Evan decided that those must have represented the coat of arms of the Zabini family. After all, the marvellous gift of Isadora's sister wasn't unheard of in their family. It wasn't for nothing that one of their ancestors managed to marry a member of the Trelawney line, thus passing Cassandra's gift to the Zabini heirs. Unfortunately, it wasn't that strong any more as the blood of the famous seer had been diluted over the centuries. However, it could still come in rather handy for Lady Zabini at times.

'Master and Mistress Rosier! Tonky and Zonky are so happy to finally welcome the young Lady and her husband! They are so thrilled to serve them! What could they do for their honourable Masters?' began jabbering excitedly the elves, being over the moon and looking expectantly at the wizards.

'Why, we're very pleased to see you too,' Isadora smiled, merrily observing such initiative servants. 'As a matter of fact, I do have a few requests for you.'

'We will execute your every order, young Mistress!' simultaneously exclaimed the elves expressing their complete readiness.

'My husband and I have decided to move to the Fiore di Pietra and we intend to remain here for an indefinite period of time. The castle will also become home to a new member of our family – baby Harry Potter. As for tomorrow, we are expecting the arrival of Mr. and Mrs Rosier with our son. Oh yes, my sister Isabella is coming too. Therefore, it's necessary for you to prepare five bedrooms and make the manor suitable for permanent living.'

'We will do everything exactly as our Mistress wishes!' nodded willingly Tonky and Zonky.

'Wait a moment, I have one other request,' contentedly continued the witch. 'Once you finish with all the preparations, I want Zonky to go to the Rosier manor. It's necessary to reassure Mr. and Mrs. Rosier that everything had gone smoothly and without any complications. I need you also to let them know that Harry Potter is staying with us under the protection of the castle as agreed. Tomorrow we'll be waiting for them with Christian in the Knockturn Alley in front of Borgin & Burkes at nine o'clock in the morning.'

'Yes, Mistress, don't worry!' the elves respectfully bowed so low that their long noses brushed the polished marble floor. 'Tonky and Zonky will take care of everything!'

Once the due instructions were handed out, and baby Harry was left snorting sweetly in his cosy cradle, Evan and Isadora ordered some breakfast and coffee to be served. Having refreshed themselves after the crazy day and rather eventful night, the couple shared with each other what they managed to find out during their surveillance of Dumbledore and McGonagall.

Some time later, having tended to her husband's injured leg and left him to rest, the witch entered the Mirror Chamber on the second floor. A rather small and poorly lit room met the woman with warmth and comfort. The wood was crackling merrily in the fireplace, soft couches with fluffed up downy pillows were invitingly offering to lie down and peculiar flowers in large clay pots were filling the air with freshness and delicate fragrance of alpine meadows. A large antique mirror in the circular frame, which was decorated with ancient symbols and beautiful gems, hung on the wall to the right from the entrance. Confidently placing her index finger into the miniature groove at its bottom, the witch slightly pressed on a sharp silver spike. Once the tiny hole was filled with her blood, Isadora Rosier met eyes with her reflection and solemnly whispered the family motto, _'Everybody knows something, but nobody knows everything, _answer to me, sister, hear the call of your blood!'

When the last words left the woman's mouth, light ripples ran over the surface of the mirror and the dark puffs of smoke engulfed her reflection. A moment later, the thick fog cleared and Lady Zabini was looking affectionately through the glass at Isadora.

'Hallo, Bella, I wanted to tell you that everything went according to our plan and there was no unexpected complications.'

'I'm glad to hear such pleasant news, my dear sister,' replied Isabella Zabini to Isadora with relieve. 'I'm looking forward to hear a detailed account of this momentous night.'

'I can assure you, as soon as you arrive at the castle, I'm going to fill you with the smallest peculiarities to the brim. Now let me officially appeal to you, Isabella Martino Zabini, to give your voluntary consent to fulfil the duty of the Witness during the sacred ceremony of adoption of Harry James Potter and his admission to the Rosier family,' solemnly pronounced Isa, strictly following the rules of the ceremony procedure.

'I thank you sincerely for your trust, Isadora Martino Rosier, and gladly accept your offer.'

'Thank you, Bella, then I'm looking forward to your arrival at the Fiore di Pietra tomorrow,' smiled Isa with appreciation. 'Evan's parents are coming in the morning, while the ritual is going to be held at midnight.'

'All right, I'll be there by dinnertime, ciao!' Bella bid farewell to her sister.

Sighing with appeasement, Isadora slowly headed for the bedroom to join her husband. Fortunately, they finally got through the mad night and could let themselves enjoy some rest. Even if it was well-deserved, there was no way it would last for long. There was still left so much to be done! The days to come promised to be incredibly bustling and exhausting.


End file.
